


your face chases away the chill

by Marleycat



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Cold, David Rose is a Good Person, Flirting with a scarf, M/M, Patrick's shitty car, Snow, grumpy patrick, tea helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marleycat/pseuds/Marleycat
Summary: Patrick had one more vendor pick-up on a record breaking day of cold before he could make it back to his husband. Was that so much to ask?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 33
Kudos: 144
Collections: Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)





	your face chases away the chill

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Patrick has a very bad day doing vendor runs, then his car breaks down and he has to walk back to Rose Apothecary on the coldest day of the year so far.
> 
> Dear prompter: I hope this fits the bill. ☃

The snow crunched and crackled under Patrick’s boots, shattering apart like his mom’s perfectly baked pie crust from Christmas, the pieces flaking off into millions of bits. He wished he was curled up with David on his parents' couch enjoying a slice right now. The piercing and repetitive noise was the only sound he could hear over the pulsing of blood in his ears and the slight grumble of his hungry stomach, hence the thoughts of dessert. He buried his gloved hands deeper into the pockets of the coat, shoulders hunched up in a desperate attempt to keep the wind from hitting his exposed neck. Salty tears, drawn out by the bitter wind, were stinging as they pooled and escaped the corners of his eyes. The blinding sun wasn’t helping matters at all.

The town loomed far in the distance as his chest burned with every breath. He had already walked thirty minutes and his normally mathematically-inclined brain couldn’t even attempt to figure out how much more time it would take him. The cold in his extremities contrasted with the perspiration at the small of his back, his henley uncomfortably sticky between his skin and the lining of his coat. His jeans, much too thin for this amount of exposure, left his thighs prickling and burning

The day wasn’t supposed to be like this.

🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️

With a once-in-a-decade massive arctic front approaching, record breaking cold had been forecasted for Schitt’s Creek over the last week. With every update, it seemed like the temperature projection kept plummeting. While people often commented on how it seemed to be perpetually summer in town, the brief change of seasons that snuck in between the sunny and temperate days often packed a wallop and then forgotten about until the next year.

Patrick in all his preparedness had been ready. He made sure to vacuum out the furnace and replace the filter since it would be running extra to keep up. On a trip to Elmdale, he had grabbed some pipe insulation at the hardware store, checking that areas in the garage and basement nearest the foundations and some of the sink pipes were well covered. Starting with the very cold nights leading up, he let the faucets drip and left the cabinets open for the airflow, always making sure they were tucked in before David, eyes half closed as he shook off sleep, wandered into the bathroom for the morning.

With a full tank of gas acquired the night before, some extra cords of wood for the fireplace for later, and the heavy wool socks his mom had given them both for Christmas, Patrick was ready to face what would be a record breaking day. While David would usually go on this set of vendor runs after making personal connections to some of their more artistic and avant garde (as avant garde as greater Elms could get) partners, he had been hesitant after Patrick’s cold weather driving instructions overwhelmed him. David already needed some time to set up some new Valentine’s Day themed displays he had been anxious to get to and had some plans he wanted to sketch out for vendor craft events to drum up business through the rest of the usually slow late-winter season, so it made sense for Patrick to handle the pick-ups today.

Patrick kissed his husband, both of their heads encircled by the faux fur hood of David’s puffy coat. He waved through the streaked windshield after David scuttled through the front door of the store and turned to return the gesture behind the frosty panes of glass, clutching his steaming macchiato. Patrick took a long sip of tea from his thermal mug and headed out of town. The bright, clear sky was deceiving. The lack of cloud cover made the temperatures drop so low, and it was only supposed to get colder during the day.

As Patrick started out towards Evangeline’s pottery studio, he realized that the car wasn’t that warm. He had let it run a bit before leaving the house with David, but it should have been downright toasty by this point even with the current conditions. Without letting his eyes drift too far from the road, he started fiddling with the heater console. The perimeter of the windows were still iced, and while it sounded like the defroster powered up, the volume of the blower quickly petered off to a tepid hum. After happening twice, Patrick just switched the heat to the floor and hoped that was enough to at least keep his feet warm in his boots and boost the heat through the rest of the car, though he could feel the goosebumps flash across the nape of his neck.

Patrick pulled up to the rustic barn to collect Evangeline’s newest coffee mugs and bowls. Before he got out, he leaned into the back seat for the scarf he left there to feel nothing except the upholstery. Pivoting his head when his scrambling hand couldn’t locate it, he only found the snow brush. Just then, the image of the scarf sitting on the kitchen island popped into his mind.

Patrick had wrapped the black and navy knit around David as they left the store after their quarterly stock check the night before. The scarf had been the last one in their inventory once Schitt’s Creek had quickly transitioned into a very warm spring last year. Even on clearance, it just wouldn’t sell, so they damaged it out and packed it away for an extra to keep at the store or in the car since it was both of their signature colors. David's eyes crinkled when Patrick had joked that no one probably bought it for that reason, wanting to save it for the both of them.

Realizing it was still on his neck ten minutes after getting home, David had offered to go put it back in the car. Patrick had pulled David close to him by both ends of the scarf before seductively pulling it off of his body. tossing it dramatically to the side. Garnering a giggle from David, he still insisted on folding it neatly before he would let Patrick manhandle him upstairs for other activities. David had even reminded Patrick to grab it this morning, but it never made it out the door. With a sigh wishing he not only had the scarf, but the warmth they had generated between their sheets the night before, Patrick crunched his shoulders up and pulled his toque down as far as it would go before popping the door, feeling the cold rush of air that hit him.

After some generic small talk with Evangeline, who had obviously been disappointed that it wasn’t David stopping by, Patrick quickly placed the delicate items on the floorboards of the rear of the cabin. The car felt like it had been sitting outside all night rather than just 15 minutes, and it took an extra crank for the engine to turn over. Patrick felt a jolt of relief when it started, and he quickly got on the road again to head to the Shayans' house for their spiced candles.

The cold seemed to permeate through the car even more on this leg of Patrick’s journey, the heat barely making it to his toes. As he signaled to pull into the Shayans’ long driveway, Patrick stopped to find a foot tall pile of iced over snow blocking his way. While their driveway had been cleared, it looked as if the township had left all the snow in the greater Elms in the way, and now it had solidified into one frozen mass. He pulled the car to the shoulder to park before vaulting over the mound in his low boots and up the driveway. They were apologetic for his troubles as they couldn’t get someone out to plow until later and Mr. Shayan had broken his shovel trying to deal with the driveway apron himself.

Patrick huffed as he eyed the five heavy boxes of glass-jarred candles that he was going to have to navigate down the driveway with. They were some of their best sellers, plus David was excited to put a little “romance package” together with the candle, local chocolates, and massage oil for a Valentine’s Day promotion. Patrick could envision David’s pleased face when he could finally physically assemble the idea he had planned out thanks to this long awaited restock.

He had shook off the Shayans’ offer of assistance, not wanting the older couple to accidentally injure themselves or the stock. Slowly he trekked down and back, precariously lifting each leg over the snow pile while cradling a box before placing it in the trunk. Out of breath, thirsty, and slightly annoyed, Patrick figured he better text David why he would not make it back before lunch.

Picking up the phone from the seat, his fingers fumbled to make the home screen pop up. Pulling off his glove didn’t help matters either, he realized it was dead. His phone had been in the back pocket of his jeans, which David had unceremoniously peeled off of him before they had gotten into the bedroom last night. They both were too tired to find and plug their phones in, and now the extreme cold and drafty sedan had sucked away the remaining charge. Even starting the car and plugging it in didn’t help. Patrick had read an article a few years back about lithium ion batteries and how their chemical reactions didn’t work in this type of weather until they slowly got warm again, and he knew he’d just have to get it home. He leaned back against the headrest, but was quickly reminded of the day when he could see his breath fill the car. He just hoped David wasn’t too panicked about texts not getting through, though it wasn’t uncommon in some of the more remote parts of the township.

“One more stop.” he whispered as he crossed his fingers for the engine to start. Luckily, it powered right up and he was on his way. Thinking of the leftover beef stew and biscuits they were going to have for dinner, how David melded himself to Patrick’s side under the blankets in the evenings, and the small bottle of Bailey’s he had picked up from the Elmdale liquor shop to add to their evening hot chocolate, Patrick tried to keep a positive attitude.

That was until he heard a weeze from the under the hood, the blower stopped, and he felt the car shudder. Looking at the dash, he saw at least two flashing indicators before the power cut from the whole panel and it went black. Patrick gripped the steering wheel with both hands and maneuvered the car to the shoulder, grateful he was on a desolate straight-away part of the country road with no traffic. The car lurched to a stop after Patrick got it far enough off the road and put it in park.

He closed his eyes and felt a combination of annoyance, seething anger, and the edge of tears as he gave a singular pound to the center console with his right fist. With his heart thumping in his chest, he already knew that the car was not going to start. With no phone, he had no other choice. Grabbing what he needed, he jumped out of the driver’s seat and dramatically slammed the door.

🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️

It was only mid-afternoon, but Patrick felt like his phone battery, zapped and unable to function normally until he was inside. He had made it into the town limits, seeing the furnace exhausts and chimneys puffing away into the clear blue sky. Everyone else had the right idea about staying home today with only a car or two speeding by him the entire drive. He thought about knocking on a random house to ask to use their phone, but getting himself back would be the most efficient use of time, on top of not imparting his sour mood on some kind stranger. 

His only focus now was on passing each landmark that brought him closer and closer to the store; the baseball field, the high school, his old apartment building, Ted’s former vet office, the motel, and Ray’s house. As his destination and the promise of warmth approached, each place melded together and Patrick wasn't sure if he was walking in circles or just imagined certain buildings. Finally like a beacon, the sun gleamed off the front of the Apothecary ahead of him.

He felt his whole body shiver with the sigh he took, knowing he only had a few hundred feet left. Trudging down the sidewalk, his body leaned forward with the momentum, almost like a magnet back to his husband. Flinching at the chapped skin as he wiped his eyes, he looked up to see David standing in the front display. Even this far away, Patrick could tell David’s eyebrows were knitted together with concern before they raised up his forehead, realizing it was Patrick in the distance.

As he pushed forward, Patrick suddenly heard the carillonic ring of the store’s bell, the door flying open, and leather-booted feet pounding towards him.

“ _ **Patrick**_!”

In a flurry befitting any winter storm, David made it to Patrick before he could even cross the street. Witnessing the exasperation on Patrick’s face, David wrapped his body around Patrick’s side, ushering him to the back room without a word. Patrick tried to focus on a part to share; the broken car, a missed vendor pickup, hauling the jars of candles, his frozen phone, but his brain was too scattered.

David gently shushed him as he wrapped his puffy coat over Patrick like a blanket. He flicked on the electric kettle in the kitchenette and gently removed Patrick’s gloves. David wrapped his long fingers over Patrick’s, pressing calming circles with his thumbs into Patrick’s palm before reaching up with one hand to cup the back of Patrick’s windblown and reddened neck.

Patrick’s body jittered as it came down from exposure to the cold, reduction of adrenaline, and relief. David only got up to get Patrick’s tea and rubbed a hand up and down his back as he slowly sipped at it. Once his mug was empty, Patrick was finally able to voice all the details of his disastrous day. When he was done, David pressed a kiss to his temple and leaned him back against the couch cushion.

Patrick let his eyes close, feeling the warmth seep in to replace the tension his body had held. In his drowsiness, he could make out the sounds of a quiet David handling everything, talking to Roland to see if he could bring Stevie’s car to them since she had flown to Maine for Rosebud Motel work, a call over to Bob about going to tow the car back to town, a voicemail left for Ronnie to see if she wouldn’t mind going with Bob to bring back the stoneware and candles so they weren't damaged, and a friendly and understanding conversation with Ari the woodworker whose kitchen tools were supposed to be the last pickup.

What felt like a few minutes obviously was a bit more once he heard the front door of the shop jingle and close. Patrick cracked his eyes open and slowly came back to consciousness to see David carrying the boxes of today's pickups, conscientiously not letting Ronnie of all people see Patrick in the state he was in. Once he finished, David’s eyes smiled when he noticed Patrick shifting to sit back up. David held out a hand to help Patrick to stand.

“Let’s go home”.

**Author's Note:**

> Wishing you warmth, love, and good health as we close out 2020. Thanks for reading. ☃️
> 
> Please say hello on tumblr if you would like [simplymarleycat](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/simplymarleycat)


End file.
